Mini Disasters
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: Is Ruth avoiding Harry or has something happened to keep her at home? H/R fluff.


**A little bit of fluff written to cheer a certain pea up...sorry it's a bit late!! **

Adam caught the quick sideways glance Harry gave towards Ruth's empty desk, as they crossed the Grid, and barely managed to suppress a smile as he saw a brief look of concern pass over the older man's features.

"She's at home. She told Zaf it was some sort of emergency but didn't elaborate."

Harry faltered for a moment, pausing mid-stride, before reminding himself that she was a grown woman and didn't need him to panic or worry every time she wasn't sat at her desk. He tried not to let the fact that she had spoken to Zaf, and not him, upset him, but in truth it had stung. Evidently, she was not going to change her mind about their relationship anytime soon and was going to keep distancing herself from him.

"Want me to ring and see if she's alright?"

The question was met with a hard stare as Harry picked up his pace across the office floor. "I'm sure Ruth is more than capable of asking for help, should she need it."

Wisely, Adam chose not to comment further and instead switched back into business mode and continued to update Harry on the morning's developments.

--

Later, as he sat in his office and pondered the details of Adam's proposed operation, he found his gaze drawn time and again to a lone, empty desk. Biting down on his frustration at letting her dominate his thoughts, again, he gave in and allowed the thoughts that had been firmly pushed to the back of his mind for the last hour to come to the forefront. His despondent eyes never left the space where she should have been sat; he could picture her there and, unbidden, the ghost of a smile graced his lips. He hated the fact that things were strange between them now and he felt certain that today's 'emergency' was just an excuse she had come up with in order to avoid their weekly meeting. Naturally, he hadn't voiced his suspicions but, now he had allowed the thought free reign in his mind, he could see no other explanation for her absence.

What he disliked most about this entire situation was the indecisiveness which had suddenly engulfed him. He wanted to contact her, partly out of a need to speak to her, to hear her voice and to listen to her soft breathing, and partly out of a sense of duty. He was her boss and he suspected, no, believed, that she was lying, an offence that many others had done time and again and they had been punished for it. He sighed heavily and fiddled with his pen, should he ring her and demand that she come into work? Should he just leave it and try to discuss it with her tomorrow? In all honesty, he didn't much like either option; they needed to clear the air properly and there was only one way to do that. He had crossed the office and put his coat on before he could talk himself out it.

--

He was still debating the merits of just turning up on her doorstep as he waited for her to answer the door. He had a brief, frightening thought, that she might just close the door in his face which evaporated as soon as the door pulled back and he caught a glimpse of her puffy, red rimmed eyes.

"Harry?" She hastily swiped at her face, fruitlessly trying to hide the evidence of her tears.

"I erm, I came to..." Her distressed appearance had thrown him completely and he was at a loss as to how best explain his presence. "Are you ok?" he finished weakly, rolling his eyes at himself for asking such an inane question, as she invited him inside.

"Not, not really," she whispered and he could tell she was trying not to cry. "A pipe burst and, and..."

"Oh Ruth," he placed his hand on her shoulder, in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "Is there much damage?"

Steadied by the feel of his strong hand on her shoulder, Ruth composed herself and explained that mostly the damage had been confined to the sitting room and that the insurance company would be able to sort out replacements for most of the damaged items, but that it would inevitably take a little while for them to sort her claim out. He squeezed her shoulder in a wordless show of support and felt helpless when her chin wobbled and the tears that she had been holding back streamed down her face once more. He did the only thing he could think of and pulled her into his arms for a hug; she was unresisting and allowed herself to weep in the comfort of his arms for a few moments.

"S-sorry..." she muttered, pulling back slightly and scrubbing at her face. "I-it's just that some of the things that are damaged are irreplaceable and...and..."

"Sssh, it's ok. I understand, Ruth. Come on, let's get you a cup of tea."

She smiled at him through her tears before turning and leading them both into the kitchen, where he proceeded to make them both a cup of tea, amusing her as he tried to find his way around her kitchen. Having finally found everything, he handed her a steaming mug and followed her into the conservatory where they sat side by side, silently drinking their tea.

"Better?" he ventured, after a few minutes.

"A little. Thanks."

"Quite alright, nothing like a good cup of tea to make you feel better."

She barely managed to suppress a laugh and he looked at her oddly. "My Gran used to say the same thing," she offered, by way of explanation, and was relieved to see his lips twitch into a smile.

"I can't decide if I should be offended by that remark or not."

The first genuine smile he had seen since he arrived graced her lips, making his stomach flutter. "Take it as a compliment, Harry."

They lapsed into silence again, both secretly pleased that the morning's events had allowed some of their closeness to be restored. Harry tried to think of a way he could help; he felt slightly guilty for not admitting the real reason he was here but he didn't think she would appreciate the truth. He briefly toyed with the idea of inviting her to stay with him whilst she got everything sorted, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. It would only lead to more tension between the two of them and more gossip and speculation amongst everyone else. Unsure what to do for the best, he decided to ask her. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really. It's mainly water damage to a few books that are special to me: I've put them on the dining table in the hope that they'll dry out but they'll never be the same now. The thing I'm most upset about is my photo album. All the pictures I have of my childhood and my Father are in there and now it's ruined." She heard the slight wobble in her voice as she spoke and quickly pushed her emotions down and flashed him a brave smile. "I think I'll just avoid the living room for a while, that way I won't have to keep looking at the mess."

"Good idea. I'd better be getting back, will you be ok?" He hated leaving her so upset and vulnerable but there was still work to be done and meetings to attend.

"I'll be fine, Harry. Thanks."

"You'll ring me if you need anything?"

His concern for her was touching and a shy smile settled on her lips as she nodded and agreed that he would be her first call if she needed help of any kind. With a last squeeze of her shoulder, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving her to wonder how such a small touch of his hand could cause her entire body to tingle.

--

Ruth was a little surprised when, two hours later, a team of cleaning experts arrived on her doorstep. They offered little by way of explanation for their presence but she knew who was responsible for sending them, without having to ask. Amused, she showed the cleaners in and left them to get on with it as she headed for the kitchen. She picked the phone up and dialled the familiar number before she could talk herself out of it.

"Yes?" He answered on the third ring, a hint of irritation in his voice as he was dragged away from the task in hand.

"Harry, it-it's me, Ruth."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he heard her soft voice. "Hi, everything ok?"

A rush of air left her mouth and he couldn't decide if it was a sigh or a soundless laugh. "You didn't have to..." she trailed off and took a deep breath, "Thank you, Harry."

"You're more than welcome, Ruth." There was a pause, punctuated only by their heavier than normal breathing, until he convinced himself to say more, hoping to keep her on the other end of the line a few minutes longer. "I know I didn't have to do anything but I wanted to help."

"You really are incredibly sweet sometimes."

She chewed her bottom lip, worried she had crossed a line when he didn't immediately respond. The few seconds of silence seemed to stretch endlessly, and then he was clearing his throat and murmuring seductively down the phone. "Don't tell anyone that, I have a reputation to maintain, Miss Evershed."

She smiled into the phone and whispered that his secret was safe with her. As she replaced the handset a few minutes later, she realised just how much she had missed talking to him. Try as she might, there was no denying that they had feelings for each other; she had tried to distance herself from him over the past couple of weeks but ultimately the only thing that had achieved was to make them both miserable. She wondered, not for the first time, why she was resisting him so much. True, she didn't like people gossiping about her but surely they would get bored eventually and find something new to talk about? She was so confused and hoped she could overcome her worries before it was too late and he gave up on her.

--

Ruth sighed and berated herself for looking into Harry's empty office again. She had been waiting to talk to him for the best part of two days, but he appeared to be avoiding her. Since their phone call, during which she had been convinced they were flirting and getting back to somewhere near normal, they hadn't spoken on more than a professional level and every time she tried to corner him, he made an excuse and disappeared off the Grid. Convinced that he had finally taken to heart her 

rejection, she had spent the day being sullen and morose, snapping at anyone that enquired as to her well being. Unsurprisingly, she had not been invited to spend the evening at the pub with the rest of the team, something she was thankful for, even if she did feel like drowning her sorrows with a good bottle of wine. She looked at her watch and contemplated going home but realised she had almost another hour until her bus was due: the only thing she would be drowning her sorrows in for the next 50 minutes would be paperwork and bad coffee. She was desperate enough for a distraction from thoughts of Harry, to leave her desk and make her way to the coffee station.

She wasn't certain how she knew, but as she crossed back over to her desk she was aware that she was being watched. A quick furtive glance around the Grid revealed nothing to her and, shrugging her shoulders, she carried on walking, resisting the urge to crane her neck and peer into the glass walled office to her left. As she approached her work station, she could see that something had been left for her in the middle of the desk. Setting her coffee mug down gently to the side of her computer screen, she peered at the understated giftbox and, when she didn't find a clue as to its contents or sender, she reached out and tentatively lifted the lid off. Puzzled, she lifted the soft, leather bound album out and flipped it open, a sob rising in her throat and unshed tears clouding her vision as her father stared back at her from her favourite photograph.

"It wasn't supposed to make you cry, Ruth."

He watched from the other side of her desk as she tore her eyes from the album and looked up. "How did you...," she trailed off as her voice cracked and had to take a few gulping breaths to steady herself.

"I borrowed the original ones," he was pleased to see a slight smile flicker on her face at his choice of words, "and then I persuaded Malcolm to put his talents to good use to restore the pictures."

"I don't know what to say, Harry."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief before stepping round the side of her desk and offering it to her. "You don't have to say anything, Ruth."

"Why? Did you do this I mean?"

"I think you know why, Ruth," he admitted, quietly, as he took the folded handkerchief out of her hand and tenderly dabbed the tears from her eyes for her.

"I love you."

He froze as she uttered the three words he had longed to hear from her, closing his eyes briefly against the tide of emotions that suddenly rushed to the surface. "Say that again," he implored, desperate to hear it again.

"I love you, Harry."

His thumb caressed her cheek as his large hand cupped the side of her face, and she twisted her neck and nuzzled her face into his hand, her lips lightly grazing the soft flesh of his palm.

"I love you too," he whispered and felt her smile against his hand as he guided her mouth towards his. Their lips brushed together lightly in an elegant kiss, teasing touches until their mouths parted slightly and their lips slid together. Their tentative kisses gave way to deeper, more fulfilling ones and they succumbed to the slow burning passion that had gradually consumed them both. For once, the Gods smiled upon them and they were left in peace; no red flashes, no interruptions and no nosey colleagues, just two soon-to-be lovers wrapped in a warm and heartfelt embrace.

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**Reviews are lovely and encourage me to write more :-) x**


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